


In Sickness and in Health

by Kindandyoung



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Emetophobia, M/M, Sick Character, sorry for putting you through this Pete, stomach flu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23356771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kindandyoung/pseuds/Kindandyoung
Summary: Pete gets sick during his time off of the campaign trail. Chasten is a very loving husband.
Relationships: Pete Buttigieg/Chasten Buttigieg
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	In Sickness and in Health

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in early January right after the new mayor was sworn in during a short break from the trail. Also I started this waayy before the coronavirus was in the US so that's not what he's sick with. Enjoy :)

Chasten woke up to the sound of retching coming from the bathroom. He looked over and saw the door open, with Peter hunched in front of the toilet bowl. He rushed into the bathroom, grabbed a washcloth, and ran it under cold water. He leaned down next to Peter and held the rag against the back of his neck, the other hand feeling his forehead for a fever, and gently sweeping hair out of his eyes.

“Chasten?” Pete asked hoarsely.

“I’m here.” Chasten said in a soothing voice.

Pete, after feeling like he had emptied his stomach, leaned back and flushed the toilet. Chasten wiped his face with the rag and helped him out of his sweaty t-shirt, throwing both in the hamper. He pulled Pete against his chest and rubbed his back.

“You ready to go back to bed?” Chasten asked.

“Yes“ Pete said quietly.

Chasten gripped Pete under his arms and helped him back to the bedroom. He helped him into a fresh t-shirt and boxers and spread the blankets over him. Chasten then walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water for Pete, grabbing a trash bag on his way out. He set the glass of water on Pete’s night stand and grabbed the trash can from the bathroom, placing the plastic bag over it and setting it next to Peter’s bedside. Pete was already asleep, snoring loudly, but woke up slightly when Chasten climbed into the bed and put his arms around him.

“Thank you, Chasten. Love you.” He slurred.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Wake me if you need me, alright?” He leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“Mmkay.” Pete nuzzled the back of his head into Chasten’s chest and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

At 5:30 AM, Pete was woken up by the sound of his alarm. His head was pounding, his throat was raw, and he was shivering. He had been looking forward to two days off the road to spend with his mom, the dogs, and Chasten, but now he could hardly move. Still, he was thankful that he somehow managed to stay healthy on the road; it would not be good if he had to give his stump speech with his sore throat and nausea.

Peter felt something wet on his chin, and suddenly realized that he had been drooling on Chasten’s chest. He grabbed a tissue from the night stand, and quickly wiped his face and Chasten’s shirt.

Chasten’s eyes fluttered open.

“Good morning, Peter.”

“Good morning, love, I’m so sorryI didn’t mean to get my spit all over your shirt—“

“Peter. It’s alright.” He chuckled. “Do you feel any better?”

“No. Well, I’m not throwing up anymore.”

“What hurts?”

“My throat, my head, my belly.”

Chasten got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He pulled out a thermometer and a package of Motrin from the medicine cabinet.

He put the thermometer under Pete’s tongue, and opened the package of pills.

“102.6°. I might have to take you to urgent care.”

“I don’t want to.” He pouted.

“Do you feel any muscular pain?”

“Uhh... yeah.”

“You might have the stomach flu, baby. And you’ve hardly had any time to rest lately. That takes a toll on your immune system.”

Peter reached for his glass of water and took the pills Chasten handed to him. He then rolled back over in an attempt to fall back asleep. Chasten sat next to him, gently rubbing his back. He knew that Peter was in pain, and that he would have a hard time falling asleep, so he tried to soothe him as best as he could. Once Peter was back asleep, he got started on disinfecting the bathroom to keep himself busy.

* * *

When Peter awoke again, he was alone. He thought about calling out for his husband, but his sore throat prevented him. So, he reached over for his phone and called Chasten.

“Hey, Peter. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Can you come here, please?”

“Okay.”

He hung up and heard his husband make his way upstairs.

“Chasten, I’m hungry.”

“You made me come upstairs to tell me that?”

“Can you make me beef stew, please? And toast?”

“Okay.”

Chasten returned 20 minutes later with a bowl of stew, two slices of buttered toast, and a cup of chamomile tea with honey, all on a tray. He set it down on Pete’s lap and sat next to him.

“How do you feel?”

“A little better. My head doesn’t hurt anymore. And I think my fever’s gone down.”

“Good.” He kissed Peter’s forehead. When he finished eating, Chasten asked him, “Do you want to move onto the couch?”

“Sure.”

They sat next to each other, with Peter cuddling into Chasten’s side and leaning his head on his chest. Chasten stroke Peter’s back and occasionally reached his hand up to caress his cheek. When Peter fell asleep, Chasten gently got out from under him and covered him with a blanket. He left to finish his house chores, and got a call from Anne. He explained the situation, and she told him that he probably had the stomach flu, and to make sure he stayed hydrated. He didn’t need to see a doctor unless his fever refused to go down, and he should start to feel better in one to two days. She also advised him to disinfect everything, so that he didn’t get himself sick.

* * *

“Chasten!”

He had been in the middle of washing their sheets when he heard his name being called. He rushed to where Pete was, afraid that something bad had happened.

“What’s wrong?”

“My belly hurts. Can you get me a heating pad?”

Chasten nodded and headed to the hall closet, plugging in the heating pad and handing it to Pete upon his return. Peter placed it under his shirt and pulled the blanket around himself tighter.

Oh, Peter . He thought.  You really couldn’t do that yourself? Well, whatever, you’re sick. I’ll let you have that.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, sitting down next to Pete as he put his palm on Pete’s forehead.

“A bit better.” Pete laid his head on Chasten’s chest. After being relieved of his mayoral duties, he felt guilty sitting around all day, as if he should be crafting a policy proposal or reviewing the year’s proposed budget.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound in the room coming from the TV.

“I talked to your mother today.”

“Did you?”

“She said you probably have the stomach flu, and that you probably don’t need to see a doctor.”

“Good. I’ll give her a call later.”

Pete closed his eyes for a couple minutes. 

"Chasten?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for taking care of me. Especially when I was throwing up. I know it must have been gross."

Chasten gave him a long kiss on his forehead.

"I'll always take care of you. It's my job"

"I love you, Chasten. So much."

"I love you too, Peter."

**Author's Note:**

> If you thought Pete acted needy in this it’s because in my head he is when he's sick. He’s a guy who gets stuff done but I imagine that because of that he wants to let himself be taken care of once in a blue moon (but only by his mom or chasten). This was supposed to have an actual plot but I couldn't think of any so I hope you enjoyed this short piece of fluff. As always your feedback is greatly appreciated :) follow me on Twitter @bearedgeedge


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